


The Journey

by VerseNaberrie



Series: Moriarty Won [2]
Category: Sherlock Holmes (Downey films)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-10
Updated: 2013-02-10
Packaged: 2017-11-28 20:06:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/678397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VerseNaberrie/pseuds/VerseNaberrie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Game of Shadows AU. Moriarty won and travels with his new employee.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Journey

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This is "Moriarty won" fic and a companion story to "At the funeral", but you will understand the plot without reading the first fic. 
> 
> The story has a book cover (look for it in my livejournal profile).
> 
> Also, if you want to know what are doing Jim and Sherlock from TV series "Sherlock", see story "One day at the exile", where Moriarty won as well. (This fic has a book cover and an vid)

"The sun is shining, birds are singing, flowers are blooming, a true landscape from fairly tale… "Sherlock Holmes said looking through a window.

"Don't forget about lonely houses, where crime goes unnoticed." His companion added, which made the detective to rolled his eyes.

"The locomotive, wagonload with carbon, section for the first class, luggage and kitchen. In all of it, only three passengers. Consulting detective, evil genius and … " he glanced at colonel Sebastian Moran, who suddenly seemed as if he would strangle him with a spoon." … never mind. God, I am in hell."

Two men sitting in front of him continued eating. Professor Moriarty hadn't flinched. He got used to his _rambling_ rather quickly, or tolerated them only because Sherlock was very efficient in doing his biddings. Moran, as a less patient person, unsuccessfully tried to concentrate on his dinner.

Detective glanced at his meal. Holmes had never liked food in trains' restaurant, the current one was no better. Unfortunately, due to his employer's unfinished business in the country, he was made to accompany Professor and travel on almost empty stomach.

"I hope that they will give a dessert. The meat was awful. How long will take the journey? Three, two hours?"

"We've just departed." Moran replied clenching his fists.

"On, really?"

"With your permission Professor, I'll check if there wasn't any problems with our luggage."

Moriarty nodded, Colonel stood up and quickly left the section. They had never liked each other. In the beginning, Moran accompanied him on all missions and bore it without complaints, but it was a thin self-control.

It was one year ago.

One year since the deal with the Professor. In exchange for Watson's life, he would stay with him and do all what he wanted. Almost all.

Both intellectualists knew that there are things, which the great Sherlock Holmes would never do, for anyone or anything. The detective wasn't an assassin. He had never killed any women or child and Moriarty had never asked for it. Holmes was an imposter, a burglar, good at stealing top secret documents or pretending to be someone else. Also, the evil genius chose him enemies well. Mostly rich and ruthless people, who used their power to bring more bad than good (like a blackmailer Milverton). It kept Holmes' spirit up, but then he was asking himself what he had done. How could he know if because of his actions someone didn't lost his life or worse?

Holmes tried to escape. Several times his freedom was so close, but at every turn Sherlock realized that Professor's net was deeper than he thought in the beginning. By an informal sentence, a bluff or even a pure coincidence, Holmes was forced to stay.

He also sent messages to Mycroft via several agents. Assuming from passing time and no replies, non of them reached his brother.

"A private train. Can you afford them again?" Holmes asked, still admiring the view outside.

He was suddenly anxious for a distraction. A conversation with his archenemy seemed as a good idea.

"No." Moriarty answered, lowering his napkin.

Sherlock look at him surprised.

"Really, Holmes. Don't tell me that your mind lost its sharpness. You're spending a lot of time with me. You must have noticed that _I buy more than sell_."

Detective put his elbows on the table and thought for a second.

"You haven't been given any new business projects, I would have heard something anyway." Holmes said aloud.

"No, I haven't."

"It was always strange for me, that you have never liked gambling."

Moriarty only raised an eyebrow.

"Don't tell me that you stole a private train!" he exclaimed. "Just kidding. A characteristic letters in train's logo, a conversation with a specific person from yesterday and your thirst for revenge, give only one conclusion."

"Actually, I only borrowed it. The owner gave us a letter, in which he states that we can use the train as we like."

"It was Winterspoon. This rich aristocrat, who wanted you as a teacher for his son. Thank the God, that you refused. (He could swear that Professor half smiled.) Winterspoon, spoon… small – yes, and cold as well. Between us, he has no respects for the house staff. Once at the university, he almost walked over me. It was his fault! What's more, he ordered me to apologize. By the way, from now on, when I'm working undercover in your cabinet, I will be just a humble assistant, cataloguing your archives." he said with a hint of humour, but in a second became serious. "Where is he?"

"Moran is checking the luggage." Professor replied, while drinking his tea.

"I see."

"No, you don't." Criminal sighed, sensing the sudden change. "He lives. We gave him sleeping pills at the station, while he was waiting for his train. When he wakes up, he won't remember anything or think that his small adventure was just a dream." he smiled evilly. "It was a nice coincidence, that he travelled to the same city as we."

"Winterspoon still will try to hire you."

"His son is an idiot."

It concluded the topic. Holmes raised his eyebrows, imaging a great mathematician explaining to a rich halfwit that sometimes two minuses can create a plus. That was a picture.

Then he thought what he felt when he had believed that Moriarty managed to bring back his fortune. It was fear. Sherlock didn't stop the mastermind and with him gone… But there was also something else. A relief? A small hope that the game would end and he could at last rest in peace. Even as a dead man.

A waiter took dirty dishes and brought new cups of tea. Professor thanked and looked at Holmes expressionlessly.

It seemed that his end hadn't come yet.

"It still doesn't change anything." Detective said as if he never thought about the final conclusion. "I'm horribly bored and when colonel comes back, I'm going to bother him again, and by the way, I still don't know how long we take the travel."


End file.
